


Captive

by HelenaWrites



Category: Black Widow (Movie 2020), Loki (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Bad Guys Made Them Do It, Dreamscapes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Fertility Issues, Forced Pregnancy, Fuck Or Die, HYDRA Trash Party, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Avengers (2012), Rape/Non-con Elements, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23050123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenaWrites/pseuds/HelenaWrites
Summary: The Avengers arrive to a HYDRA facility in Sokovia hoping to retrieve Loki's stolen scepter. What was supposed to be a simple in and out mission takes a turn for the worst when during the raid Natasha is taken captive by Wolfgang von Strucker. The Baron is a twisted man who has no qualms when it comes to experimenting with prisoners, and Natasha is just what he needed for his latest project. That, and one God of Mischief.Or, that one fic where Natasha and Loki are taken prisoners and forced to fuck.Chapter 2 re-uploaded with added scenes!
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Natasha Romanov, Loki/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 96





	1. A Perfect Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say it, I am not proud of this. I am absolutely not proud of this. But the heart wants what it wants, and mine's been craving a Blackfrost Fuck or Die fic for months now, lol. There's nothing explicit in this chapter but probably there will be in the next updates so reader beware! This is a very dark and kinda whumpy story. Best not to read if that's not your thing

At the beginning they thought that it might be a bug in their computer system. Tony did a thorough review of the circuits on JARVIS’ mainframe. He also ran tests on all the simulators, convinced that he had somehow overlooked a design flaw. No matter how much he tinkered with the system, though, the results remained unchanged. It was only then that the Avengers allowed themselves to hope. After nine months of fruitless search, they’d finally stumbled upon Loki’s missing Scepter. 

The artifact’s energy signature was unmistakable. Like a fingerprint, one might say, although much harder to identify or keep track of. It was a good thing they had Stark Industries' latest technology at their disposal. If they hadn't, Natasha had no doubt their computers would have exploded from the exposure alone. The levels of energy the scanners were showing was so high they’d left even Tony’s head spinning. 

They got a fix. Then, it was just a matter of time before tracking the signature to an underground compound in the southwest of Sokovia. Natasha knew all too well who had a tendency to roam around those parts. By the way his expression soured, she had the impression that Steve did as well. Sokovia was a country known for its political instability, and the current rebellion was an excellent cover for all sorts of shady businesses. It was a tactic that went right up Hydra’s alley. 

Since the moment the Avengers realized the Scepter was missing, Hydra had been the first number on their list. It was only common sense, after everything that went down in the Triskelion. Still, this was one of those occasions in which been proved right felt everything but satisfying. 

They started preparations for the mission right away. Natasha pulled out a few classified files and brought them down to Tony's lab.

“Oh. You already have a suspect, then?” Tony asked, idly drifting through the files spread over the conference table. Natasha reached out and handed him the thickest folder of the pile. When he opened it, Tony let out an impressed whistle.

“Wolfgang von Strucker. That’s one hell of a name.” 

“He’s going as Baron Strucker, last I heard.” Natasha said. “He was a sleeper agent within SHIELD. It seems his job was to recruit people to the cause, among other things. After the battle at the Triskelion we lost track of him.”

“What makes you think he is our guy? I mean, yeah, looks like he’s something of a big shot with all these uh, murder charges, and kidnappings and eh, notorious war crimes. Fuck, that’s nasty.” Tony said, closing the folder with a bit more force than was necessary. He handed the file back to Natasha. She frowned, but accepted it.

“But, you know, that can also be said about half the people working for Hydra. Why is this one different?”

“Strucker is pretty high up in the hierarchy, for starters.” Natasha said. “He was in charge of the cell that infiltrated SHIELD’s laboratories, so at the very least we know that he was in contact with the Scepter. Also, our sources say that he is in charge of Hydra’s Research Unit. He appears to be working in some type of Human Enhancement program. An energy source this big sounds like something he’d like to put his hands on.”

“Mmn, maybe. An underground compound sure seems like a nice place for a secret lab.” Tony opened a display that showed a map of the compound, and beckoned Natasha to come over. All five floors of the facility were visible on the screens, including halls, exits and ventilation systems. Natasha committed the information to memory.

“It’s big enough to fit a whole army in there, actually." Tony said. "Is Bruce back on his feet already? If we’re going to break into this thing, we could really use the Hulk’s help.”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.” Natasha said. “Steve wants to do a front assault and he won’t settle for anything else. The plan goes with or without Bruce.”

Tony blinked at her. Then, blinked some more. 

“Well, that’s sounds like a disaster in the making. Have you tried to talk to him?”

“Plenty of times.” Natasha said, schooling her features. No need to have Tony knowing how pissed that particular conversation had left her. “If we get in through the flanks they are going to make a run for it. You know how adamant Steve is about taking down Hydra. He doesn’t want to give them the chance to escape.”

“Mmn, I can’t really blame him. Not a big fan of Nazis myself. _Especially_ the ones who dabble in human experimentation as a hobby.” Tony said, wrinkling his nose. “Seriously, is it even possible to make a bigger _cliché_ of yourself? I mean, this feels like the plot-line of an Indiana Jones movie. And not one of the good ones, mind you.”

Natasha allowed herself to smile at that.

“You’re really going in, then?”

“Seems so.”

“Alone, though? Seems a bit risky.” 

Natasha considered that for a moment, then shrugged. 

“You and the others will make for a good distraction, even without the Hulk. It should give me enough time to sneak in and track down the Scepter.”

“I’d suggest you take some backup with you, but I already know what would be your answer to that.” Tony said, rather pointedly. 

“I know what I'm doing.” Natasha said. “I’ve been in this job for a lot longer than you, Stark. No need to worry about me.”

She didn’t mean it as an offense, merely an statement of fact. Tony stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. 

“Yeah, okay. Whatever.” He said, and that was that. 

* * *

When she heard a knocking at her door, Natasha already knew that Bruce Banner was on the other side. She pulled at the door knob, and Bruce slid into the room with the grace of a fat field mouse. Between his hands he nursed a steaming cup of jasmine tea. He was wearing his glasses again, and a dorky sweater vest that made him look like a high school science teacher. Natasha couldn’t help but stare.

“This will never stop being unnerving, you know.” She said.

“Sorry?”

“Seeing you wearing house clothes and sipping at a tea mug just after witnessing one of the Hulk’s infamous rampages.” 

Bruce flinched, seeming quite flustered all of a sudden.

“Oh, well, yeah, I guess it must be a bit weird.” 

“To put it mildly.” Natasha said. “Was there something you wanted or…?”

“N-not really, I…” Bruce stammered. “Just wanted to see if you were alright, I guess.”

“I’m okay, just tired.” Natasha said. Bruce nodded.

“I hear from Tony that we located the Scepter. Somewhere in Sokovia?”

“Yeah, Steve is talking with Fury right now. We leave as soon as we get his approval.” Natasha said. "We're making a front assault, apparently. The Other Guy will be happy when he finds out. Lots of things to break."

“But you aren't.”

“Sorry?”

“You. Aren't happy. About making a front assault, I mean.”

Natasha stared at him, not quite frowning. 

“It’s a big facility.” She conceded. “They have many men, heavy weaponry and they probably know we are looking for them. If we really want to retrieve the Scepter we’d be better off just sneaking in and stealing it. No need to make such a fuss.”

“Yeah, I guess. This is not just about the Scepter, though.” Bruce said, blowing at his cup of jasmine with all the nonchalance of the world. “You know how Steve is when it comes to HYDRA.”

Natasha couldn’t help but grimace.

“That’s what bothers me. He’s been very reckless the last few weeks. You saw how he was yesterday. It’s dangerous. For him and for us.” 

“I think you are not being fair.” Bruce said. “Steve’s just passionate about his job. Always has been.”

“His passion might get us all killed someday.” 

“I’m sure it won’t come to that.” Bruce eyed her thoughtfully. He put his cup down with a light tud. “What’ve you been thinking about, Nat? For a while now, you look like… I don’t know, like something’s been bothering you.”

Natasha hesitated. She knew she wasn’t in Russia, anymore. That day in New York when she had gone against direct orders, her ties to SHIELD had become quite questionable as well. Things with the Avengers were supposed to be different, or at least everyone was trying to make it look that way. Still, speaking her mind was something that even nowadays made a spark of adrenaline run down her back, even when she was among people she trusted.

“It’s a lot of things.” Natasha said. “New York. The Avengers. SHIELD. This nonsense with HYDRA.”

“I don’t think I’m following?”

“I mean that... there’s always something else.” Natasha said, picking at her crimson red nails. “Another war to fight. Another bad guy to defeat. It feels like it doesn’t have an end.”

“Then why are you doing it?” Bruce asked.

Natasha stared at him. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. 

“Ah, you don’t know.” Bruce said, and wasn’t strange how unimpressed he sounded?

For a moment, Natasha struggled to find something to say. 

“I guess I really don’t.” She admitted, wrinkling her nose. “When I first joined SHIELD I wanted to help people. I guess I still want to. I’m not so sure that’s what we are doing here.”

“Oh.” Bruce nodded, and eloquently drank from his cup of tea. “Are you going to leave?”

“You can’t just walk away from this sort of thing, Bruce.” Natasha said, allowing a hint of a smile to appear on her face. It was a very curious smile. One that didn’t suggest any joy whatsoever. “Not without facing some serious repercussions.”

“You, eh, seem to be in a bit of a dilemma, then.”

“I guess I am.” Natasha said. 

Bruce nodded again. He looked a bit uncomfortable, now. He was pulling at his collar - a nervous tick Natasha had caught on just a few days after meeting him. Although Bruce was the one who started asking questions, she couldn’t really hold it against him. Avenger or not, it was no secret among their group how much Bruce hated working for SHIELD. Her words were probably hitting too close to home.

She wanted to say more, but wasn’t sure what or how. Bruce smiled at her. It was probably meant to be a reassuring gesture, but it didn’t really fulfill its purpose. “Maybe you should just ask for some time off.” 

“Maybe.” Natasha said, looking away. 

_Or maybe I should just desert_ , she thought, but Natasha was wise enough not to say that out loud.

* * *

They were in the elevator, heading to the conference room, when Sharon Carter stepped in. Natasha didn’t bother to acknowledge her. She felt Maria digging an elbow in her side, and did her best to ignore it. She knew there’d be a conversation about it later, but she really couldn’t be bothered at the moment. 

“Good morning, Sharon.” Maria said, polite as always. “Heading to the conference?”

“Yep.” Sharon said, smiling at her.

“Didn’t know you had the clearance for that.” Natasha said, staring at the numbers increasing on the screen at the top of the elevator. 

“Oh, I don’t. Steve just asked me to bring these up to him.” Sharon said, gesturing to the series of colored folders on her right hand, and the steaming cup of cappuccino on the other. Natasha's mouth turned downwards. 

“Ah. He’s got you running his errands for him, now?”

Maria gave her a look, but didn’t comment. Sharon’s easy smile was gone. When the doors opened she quickly outpaced them, disappearing down the hall.

“I still don’t understand what’s your problem with Sharon.” Maria said.

“Who said I have a problem with her?” 

“What was that all about, then?” 

Natasha shrugged in response. She wasn’t sure what it had been about, either. There was just something about Sharon Carter that she didn't like. Something that put her on edge. She couldn't quite put her finger on what, though, let alone try and explain it.

“I get that you don’t like her. You’re allowed not to like people.” Maria said, visibly annoyed. “Try to keep it down, though? Just while we are working.”

Natasha hummed in agreement, opening the door to the conference room. She was suddenly feeling very irritated. 

* * *

The meeting was short and concise, as it was usually the case when Steve gave orders. The Avengers were to take down as many soldiers as they could, with minimal casualties. Baron Strucker and his inner circle would be apprehended. Any activities taking place in the compound regarding unethical research would be properly dealt with, and there’d be a medical team waiting for the subjects’ arrival. How many there were (if there were any at all) was not known, but they all agreed it was better to be ready.

Steve purposely skimmed over any details regarding the experiments. There were probably two or three words dedicated to them during the whole meeting. Even so Natasha noticed the way Tony paled just at the mention of it, and she was suddenly aware of why she had been assigned the solo mission and not him. It was only sensible, given his story. She was bound to stumble upon the subjects while searching the facility, and she had the feeling Tony was not in the right mental state to witness the conditions they might be in. Not after Afghanistan. Especially not after New York.

The realization filled Natasha with dread. She remembered the folder she’d brought to Tony’s lab the day before. She’d handed over documents on torture and human experimentation to a man with PTSD without a second thought. How they could affect him hadn’t even crossed her mind. 

_Not very bright for a super spy_ , she thought. 

Once the ordeal was over Natasha stood up from her chair and left the room. She’d learned nothing new from the conference. That wasn’t a surprise, thought. Steve had been thorough enough when he’d briefed her privately. She had to go in, retrieve the Scepter and then leave undetected. Everything else would be taken care of once the battle was over. No need to linger or look for confrontations. Leave the subjects for the medical team. Natasha would have thought of it as an easy job, if it weren’t Hydra they were dealing with. They had a talent for making everything a tad more complicated.

With nothing more to do, she got out of her uniform and went straight to bed. She had the feeling tomorrow was going to be a long day.

* * *

Getting inside the compound was easier than Natasha had first thought.

While the rest of the Avengers were busy breaking things and being loud, she sneaked up on two unsuspecting officers and stole their cargo truck. Overpowering them was not all that difficult. She almost felt bad. Then she remembered that they were Hydra agents and most likely Nazis themselves, which quickly made her get over it. She tied them up and put them on the back of the truck. Before leaving, she searched their pockets and took their white badges with her. 

The woman’s measures differed a bit much from hers. The man’s uniform fit her just fine, thought, which was a welcomed surprise. Once dressed, she made her way towards the facility. She parked a few meters away from a back door, and waited. Her key to go in came not long after, when Tony announced through the comms that the powerfield around the building had been successfully dismantled. Natasha started the car. _Here we go again_ , she thought bitterly, and stepped on the accelerator.

The inside of the building was dark and humid. She didn’t know why she had been expecting anything else. Eastern Europe’s picturesque architecture was nothing knew to Natasha. That and the strange smell that usually coated stairs and hallways were one of the vividest memories she had of growing up in Russia. She tried not to grimace at the unexpected re-encounter. 

Her coordinates took her to the lower floors. There was little to no one roaming around the hallways. Everyone’s attention seemed to be outside, focused on the imminent threat of the Avengers. She would have laughed, if she’d been in a better mood. As it was, Natasha could only be grateful that things for once were going their way. Two officers passed her by as she made her way to the basement, but paid her no mind. She tugged the tip of her hat down, and forced herself not to stand straighter. It wouldn't do to be discovered now that she'd made it this far.

When she already had a short way to go to reach her destination, Natasha stopped abruptly. Further down the hall she spotted a blade along with a matching scabbard.

They were floating in the air.

She stared for a moment, and then crept closer. The blade looked old. It was made of steel, and decorated with intricate drawings that she could not identify. It looked like some sort of language. The scabbard, floating a few inches away, had similar designs etched in gold and dark green.

Natasha shivered. She put her hand on top of the items, looking for strings and finding none. Then she ran it underneath, just to make sure, and felt a cold liquid dripping onto her skin. Natasha grimaced and held her hand in front of her face. It was blood. 

_Ой, блять._ This was proving to be a very interesting mission.

Natasha kept on walking. She left the bloodied blade behind, afraid of what could happen if she touched it.

It wasn’t long after that she found the test subjects. She ran into them almost by accident. The tracker Tony had given her was accurate enough, but even the finest piece of technology was bound to malfunction in the underground. The coordinates told her that the Scepter was nearby, but couldn’t pinpoint its exact location. She began to walk around aimlessly.

When Natasha stumbled upon a heavy metal gate at the end of the hallway, she thought she had made it to Strucker’s laboratories. It was only when she used the white badges to open the door that she realized she was entering the basement where the prisoners were kept. The smell was the first thing that hit her. Her eyes watered and she had to cover her mouth with her elbow to keep from gagging. 

Sweat. Humidity. Feces. Urine. They were all quite terrible on their own, and the state of confinement only made them worse. She had to step outside for a moment. If not to breathe, at least to gather her bearings. When she came back inside, Natasha approached the cell nearest to the door. There sat an old man. He was small and dirty, but when he raised his eyes to look at Natasha his gaze held no fear. 

“Hello. I’m Natasha.” She said, crouching down to his level. “You speak English?”

The old man only stared, which was enough of an answer.

“Меня Наташа зовут.” She said instead, just to give it a try. “Я пришла чтобы вас отпустить.”

The old man stared again, then laughed. 

“Да, ладно. О чем ты? Вообще знаешь где мы?” He asked, showing all his crooked yellow teeth. One of them was made of gold. “Никто нас не спасут.” 

Natasha fought not to grimace. She really wasn’t in the mood for post-soviet pessimism. 

“Не думай так, деда. Сейчас я тебе покажу.” She stood up and stared down the hall. The rest of the prisoners were pressing their faces against the bars of their cells, trying to get a good look at her. They whispered to each other in the dark. Some in Sokovian. Only a few in Russian. Natasha noticed that they all looked either very old or very ill.

“Есть молодые люди здесь? Мне нужна помощь, чтобы открыть клетки.”

“В конце коридоре девушка сидит. Остальные все старые.” The old man said, sounding terribly uninterested. He was picking at his nails now, not looking up at her. Natasha made a mental note to free him last.

If there really was a girl in the last cell, Natasha hoped she was strong and healthy enough to help her open the cells. If she wasn’t, there was very little she could do for these people until the rest of the Avengers arrived. Following the old man’s instructions, she walked towards the end of the hallway.

Natasha remembered her instructions, then. How Steve had expressly told her not to linger. Her only task was to look for the Scepter and then retreat immediately. They were very sensible orders. In fact, this was the sort of mission she would have never put into question in her time working for SHIELD, or even before that. 

When had she changed? These were the rules that had defined Natasha’s life since she had the use of reason. Since the the very first time she was deemed capable enough to hold a gun. Why was she feeling such a desperate need to break them now? Why was she suddenly itching to rebel? She was back in this desolate part of the world after what felt like an eternity, and perhaps that had something to do with it. 

Steve wasn't heartless. He was a good person and a sensible leader. He just didn't understand how things worked in Eastern Europe. Not the way she did.

Natasha had witnessed how her superiors took care of their prisoners when SHIELD came to raid their hideout. She'd seen how they were taken out of their cells in the middle of the night by the guards. She'd seen how they were lined up in the hallway, on their knees and with sacks covering their eyes. She stood and did nothing as they were each given a point blank shot to the head, staining the tiled floor with red.

_When I first joined SHIELD I wanted to help people. I guess I still want to._

Natasha stared into the last cell. There was a girl inside. A glance was enough to make her realize that she wouldn’t be of much help in freeing the prisoners. It looked like she could barely stand on her feet. She couldn’t be more than eleven years old. Natasha saw her raise her tired eyes to look up at her, and felt her heart shrink.

“Hello, there.” She said, kneeling down before the cell. English was a safer bet this time. Sokovian children rarely spoke Russian. The language had fallen out of style after the Dissolution. "Do you understand me?"

“Only a little.” The girl said. 

“A little is enough for me." Natasha said, struggling to smile. It wasn't easy, given the circumstances.

The girl gestured for her to come closer. Natasha did, reclining against the cold metal bars that separated them. “What is it?”

“Want to show you my secret.”

Natasha frowned. “What secret?”

The girl smiled and reached out through the bars. It was a very strained smile. Very tired. Natasha didn’t think twice about taking her hand. There was nothing to show though. Her palm was empty, and the girl remained silent. Natasha sent her a questioning look. 

“You do not see? Right here.” The girl said, gesturing at the cell.

Natasha followed her gaze, but couldn’t see anything beyond the grime and filth. 

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.” The girl smiled again. “You are perfect choice.”

From that moment on, everything happened very fast. Natasha felt a presence behind her. Then the tip of a needle prick her neck. Almost immediately the world began to grow fuzzy around the edges.

Natasha tried to stand up, but realized her legs felt much too numb and heavy. Everything around her seemed to disintegrate. The girl disappeared, along with the cells, the stink and the other prisoners. Her hands were cold and sweaty. Natasha tried to hold onto the metal bars before her, and realized they weren't there anymore. Had she even made it to the basement? Or was that an illusion as well?

“That was a lovely job, Wanda.” Someone said behind her. A man. Through the haze of her thoughts she recognized a thick German accent, and trembled in fear. “It’s always a pleasure to see you work.”

Natasha began to feel nauseous. She fell backwards, but something kept her from hitting the ground. Someone. She struggled to open her eyes, and suddenly there he was. Clear as daylight. She had never seen him before, of course, but she recognized him from the pictures. From the mugshot she had placed on top of the classified files.

_Wolfgang Von Strucker._

“Just look at her.” The Baron said, smiling broadly down at Natasha. “She truly is a perfect choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry if there are any mistakes in the Russian dialogues! I am still learning 😬😅
> 
> *Ой, блять // Oh, fuck  
> *Меня Наташа зовут // My name is Natasha  
> *Я пришла чтобы вас отпустить // I came to free you  
> *Да, ладно. О чем ты? Вообще знаешь где мы? // Yeah, right. What are you on about? Have you any idea of where we are?  
> *Никто нас не спасут // Nobody will save us  
> * Не думай так, деда. Сейчас я тебе покажу // Don't think like that, grandpa. I'll show you  
> *Есть молодые люди здесь? Мне нужна помощь, чтобы открыть клетки // Is there young people here? I need help to open the cells  
> *В конце коридоре девушка сидит. Остальные все старые // In the end of the corridor sits a girl. The rest are all old.


	2. The Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I feel so bad about this chapter. Natasha is really not having a good time here! I'll make it up to her later, though, I swear. Still no Loki, but that's going to change in the next chapter, so stay tuned in! Hope you enjoy the reading :)  
> Btw, be mindful of the tags! I add more every time I upload an episode. As I've said before, this is a dark story and I don't advice you to read it if you are a sensitive person/easily triggered.
> 
> Edit: I decided to re-upload this chapter because I realized many things were a bit confusing, so I re-wrote some parts so that it was easier to understand. I also added a few important scenes at the end, so I recommend you to read it before starting chapter three! 
> 
> Leave feedback if you can, please! It's what motivates me to keep writing! :)

Natasha woke up to the sound of dripping water.

She was laying on a plain mattress. It had no bed frame nor sheets. It looked clean enough, though, and at least there weren’t any lingering smells. The walls were made of brick and there was only one barred door. No windows in sight. On the corner there was a one piece sink and a toilet, both made of metal. The sight of them was somewhat discouraging. Whoever was keeping her here was not planning to let her go soon. Or ever.

Natasha tried not to let that bother her too much. 

She stood and walked towards the door. It locked from the outside, which wasn’t surprising. Besides a dark hallway and a few empty cells, she could see very little on the other side. The floor was wet and covered in grime. The ceiling was low, made of metal and had a various number of leaks. At least she knew what had woken her up.

Upon closer inspection Natasha concluded her cell had to be about 6 by 8 feet in dimension. Not terribly small, in comparison with other places she’d been kept in. Over her lifetime, she had found herself imprisoned in more than one occasion. Sometimes intentionally - a calculated risk needed to carry out a mission. Others, it was simply bad luck. Natasha couldn’t blame neither this time. The reason of her failure was crystal clear to her, and she’d be lying if she said that it didn’t sting. 

_Better remember this next time you feel like playing hero_ , Natasha thought. She felt weirdly calm. 

Briefly, she wondered how long it had passed, and if the others were looking for her. Protocol said they had to. Natasha wanted to think that if the circumstances were ideal, they’d come for her. They almost never were, though. If what she remembered about Hydra’s little trap was accurate in anyway, the Avengers might have their own problems to deal with at the moment. Natasha knew very little about mutants. What she did know was enough for her to realize that things weren’t looking good for her team.

She went back to the bed and laid down for a while. An hour later, some visitors came.

Natasha was alerted by the sound of keys glanging against each other and of the lock been opened. She sat up straight on the mattress. Baron Strucker casually made his way into the cell, a young woman trailing behind him. He looked older than in the pictures. Almost all his hair was gone, and he wore an electronic monocle on his left eye. Natasha had to stifle a laugh, which wasn’t hard, since she was Natasha. It seemed that Tony’s comment about Nazis and action flick villains was much more accurate than it had been anticipated. 

She reminded herself to pat him on the back, next time she saw him. 

“Natasha Romanov,” Strucker said, soundly oddly pleased. He spoke with a thick German accent that Natasha found granting immediately. “I have to say, I knew our little project here was getting some unwanted attention. But the Avengers? I really wasn’t, well, I wasn’t expecting that one, if I’m honest.”

“That’s funny.” Natasha said. “You speak as if it were some sort of compliment.” 

“Well, isn’t?” Strucker turned to look at the woman then, smiling broadly. “We must be doing something right, if _they_ bothered to come. Don’t you think, Wanda?”

“Sure seems like it, Sir.”

Natasha fought the urge to stare at the woman. She remembered that name. It was one of the very few things she could remember clearly from her capture. This was the mutant who had caused her hallucinations. The one who had tricked her. Somehow, she was not what Natasha had been expecting. She looked much too young to be a Hydra agent, and too attractive to be a foot soldier. Was this the result of the experiments Strucker was carrying out? 

“I was curious, Agent. What exactly were you planning to do, once you’ve liberated the prisoners?” The Baron asked. Natasha made a face, but didn’t comment. There was nothing to answer. She had the feeling Strucker knew that. 

“Oh, you had no plan, did you? It was merely a - what you call it? Impulse of the moment?”

“You could say that.” Natasha said.

“But that really isn’t like you, Agent. The Black Widow herself, charging into the fray without a plan?” The Baron made a disapproving noise, like a parent scolding his child. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, though. This is Wanda’s speciality. To see people’s desires, their fears, to finds their weaks spots. She’s truly marvelous at what she does. The best, I’d say.”

“Perhaps she is.” Natasha said. “Did you make her that way?”

“ _Nein_ , I wouldn’t say I made Wanda. She’s what me and my colleagues like to call a gifted child. The power was already hers, we merely... found the right way to let it out.” Strucker said, staring at Wanda. There was something like pride gleaming in his eyes. Something paternal. Natasha filed that information in for later. 

“But we are not here to talk about that, are we?” The Baron said, shaking himself. “You might find it pertinent to know that you have been unconscious for a few days, Agent. While you have been out we took the liberty to run a full physical exam on you.” 

Natasha felt nauseous. She did notice her clothes had been changed while she was unconscious. She quite vividly remembered not using prison garments when first going out into the field. It was an unpleasant discovery, to say the least. There was a big difference between that and having a complete medical test run on you, though. She suppressed a weird, primal need to hug herself.

The Baron walked closer. Natasha noticed that he was holding a collar on his hand. It was black and thin, and had a battery compartment on the side. She meant to move away from him, and realized with a start that she couldn’t. Something kept her from standing up, from holding her arms up to keep the distance between them. She couldn’t even turn her head. 

Natasha shot an accusing look at the mutant. 

Wanda was staring intently at her. Her eyes shone with an unnatural light. Red energy spun on her right hand, wild and powerful in a way that was completely alien to Natasha. She was afraid, all of a sudden. Sized by the human fear of all things occult and strange that have no explanation. She knew very little about mutants, yes, but she knew enough. Whatever was holding her back, it was nothing that a human like her could stop. So she swallowed back her fear, and refused to fight. 

Strucker smiled, as if he knew. He put the collar around her neck and clasped the buckle. 

“The results show that you are in excellent conditions. You are a very healthy, attractive woman. Not really the right race, but I guess that’s a slight we can overlook. We did with Wanda and things turned out just fine.” He said. Natasha felt anger boiling inside her. It wasn’t often that she felt slighted on behalf of her slavic origins. It was very hard not to when speaking with a Nazi, though. 

The Baron stood back and gave her an appraising look. 

“A strong body, wide hips, well-developed breasts. All signs of good fertility. You shouldn’t give us too much problems.” Strucker said, nodding to himself. “And, well, a beautiful redhead with green eyes - it’s hard to be unpleased by that, even if you aren’t pure blooded. Our friend is sort of a picky gentleman, but I have the feeling he’s going to like you.”

Natasha couldn’t even be properly offended. The dread rising inside her was so great that it seemed to numb out everything else. Whatever Strucker was planning to do wasn’t clear to her, but it didn’t need to be. She had to get out of this place. The sooner, the better. 

“Given your current circumstances we urge you to collaborate and not make things harder for yourself. Fighting us is futile. If you do not do as you are told, lovely Wanda here will make you. If you think last time was bad enough, just remember that you haven’t even seen a fraction of what she’s capable of.” The Baron said, with a certainty that made it very hard for Natasha to doubt his words. 

“Be good and we’ll see to it that you aren’t hurt. The experiment will start soon.”

“The experiment?” Natasha said, numbly.

Strucker nodded, not a trace of mirth on his face. Natasha looked at the mutant, and found her wearing a similar expression. Sharp and professional. The sort of look that appears on a secretary’s face while signing a long series of documents, or a cashier when counting a large sum in bills. Nothing personal, just work. 

“What, you want to make me like her? That won’t end well for you.” Natasha said, stoically.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Even if I wanted, I wouldn’t be able to. You aren’t gifted.” Strucker said, matter of factly. “We have different plans for you.”

He turned to look at Wanda, and nodded. The invisible bindings constricting Natasha were removed immediately. It felt like breathing again. She placed her arms around her body instinctively. Then she realized what she was doing, and dropped them quickly. 

“That would be all for today. A doctor will come to check on you soon.”

As Strucker and the mutant moved to leave the room, Natasha did her best to appear unaffected. She wasn’t sure she succeeded. 

Once he reached the door, Strucker turned to cast her one last look. He seemed thoughtful, as if considering her. Natasha felt like an insect under a magnifying glass. It would only be the first time in the weeks to come.

“Yes, he’s going to like you alright.” Strucker said, and with that Natasha was alone on her cell.

* * *

It was a shock collar. Natasha had suspected as much when she first laid her eyes on it. Despite its small size, it felt heavy around her neck. The battery compartment was sturdy and made of metal, and a quick inspection was enough for her to realize that she wouldn’t be able to take it off. She tried anyway, because she had nothing else to do. All her attempts to open it or pry it off were as unsuccessful as expected. It felt hard to breathe. 

Natasha reviewed the information she had. Although the experiments themselves were clearly real, all pointed out that the rumors about Strucker using unwilling test subjects were false. Although she was evidently his inferior, the mutant looked way too comfortable around him to be a prisoner. Perhaps coercion had been involved. That was a common story. Wanda worked for Hydra because she chose to, thought, not because she’d been forced. 

At least, it looked like that. 

Natasha thought she had seen prisoners in the basement. That had been an illusion. An image placed in her mind to accommodate her own expectations. Wanda made her see exactly what she’d wanted to see. Sokovian prisoners in deplorable conditions, taken against their will and in need of help. There was nothing absurd about the picture she’d been shown. In fact, everything was terrifyingly logical. Their grim faces. The language they spoke. The smell of human waste and decay. There was no way to tell between that and reality.

Natasha took a deep breath and put her head between her legs.

It was just sinking in now, somehow. Wanda could read her mind. She could create illusions out of her private thoughts and memories. Even out of her own desires. Images so real that she could not only see them but hear them, taste them and touch them. It was too much for her. To think that someone had the ability to manipulate her reality like that. That they could peer into her thoughts and know where she was most the vulnerable.

Where it’d be best to bury the knife.

* * *

A doctor came.

He was small, German and had a long shaped nose that made Natasha think of Papa Mousekewitz. His name was Müller. Or so it read on the tag hanging from his pocket. 

Müller wasn’t very talkative. Formalities seemed to be a nuisance he couldn’t be bothered with. He came into the room with a stool in hand and took a seat before the mattress, barely acknowledging her. His greeting was quick and curt. He pulled out a folder and began to fill in some boxes in what looked like generic paperwork. Natasha wondered if she ought to stand up. He said nothing about it though, so she decided to stay where she was and wait. He had to start speaking at some point. 

He did, and that’s when the questions started. 

They were normal enough at the beginning. Some of those awkward questions doctors always make. Do you have a normal sleep pattern? What are your eating habits? Do you have any medical condition or a chronic disease? Have you ever had an operation? Natasha tried to answer truthfully, of course, but there’s always limits to what a trained assassin can disclose to her enemies, even if they are doctors. 

She thought fleetingly about her graduation ceremony. The sterilization procedure she had been submitted to, after finishing her training in the Red Room.

Perhaps, if Natasha had been doing a regular check-out or speaking with a trustworthy professional she would have said something about it. That was hardly the case, though. Dealing with Hydra, there was room to wonder if this man was even a real doctor. It hadn’t really been a surgical procedure, anyway. She quickly decided that her captors had no business knowing about it. 

Later, Natasha would wonder if that had been the right decision to make.

Perhaps if she had been truthful, she could have saved herself a lot of pain. 

“When was the last time you had your period?” The doctor said.

“What?” Natasha asked, taken aback. 

“Your period. When did you have it last?” 

To say Müller looked impatient would be an understatement. Natasha hesitated, and that only seemed to annoy him even more. She was suddenly reminded of her long forgotten hate for medical practitioners. The physical tests were not much of a bother, really. It was the lack of tact what got to her.

“I don’t know. I guess eleven days ago.” She said, because there was no reason to lie. The doctor’s eyes seemed to brighten up at that, although he very visibly tried to hide it. He nodded and wrote something down on his notepad. 

“Would you consider your menstrual cycle to be regular?”

“I guess so.”

“That’s good. Very good.” Müller said, not looking at her. “Today is Monday. You should start ovulating somewhere between Wednesday and Thursday night, then. I’ll let Herr Strucker know.”

“Can you tell me why you need to know this?” Natasha said. She had the feeling she already knew the answer to that question. Still, she had to ask. 

“If Herr Strucker didn’t tell you, there must be a reason. I advise you to ask him yourself.” Müller said, collecting his paperwork and lifting the stool. There was a satisfied look on his face. As if he’d found exactly what he’d been looking for when he came into the cell. Natasha suddenly felt an overwhelming need to punch him on the face. She almost did. Then she remembered the collar clasped around her neck, and deflated.

Müller gave her one last, quick nod and left.

* * *

For three days they left her alone. 

The Baron and his mutant didn’t come back, and neither did the doctor. A nurse in her early 30s would arrive three times a day to bring her meals, though. Like Müller, she was the quiet type. Natasha’s feeble attempts to start a conversation were poorly met every time, and after the first day she stopped trying. 

Things got boring quickly. 

Natasha's sleep schedule was strictly monitored. She had no way to tell the time inside her windowless cell, of course, but she guessed they were strict about it. Morning was when the lights were turned on, and night when they were turned off. When they were, the darkness in the room was so deep that there was nothing left to do but fall back asleep. Natasha tried not to mind. It wasn’t the first time she was held in captivity. Her control over the simplest aspects of life were taken the moment she let herself be captured. It was best not to resent that. 

Sooner or later, an opportunity to escape had to arise. 

There was not much for her to do in the meantime. She started to make exercises in the morning, just to entertain herself. The rest of the time she was laying down. Meditating. Thinking. She wondered what had happened to her teammates. If they’d come for her, or if she should take matters onto her own hands. It was hard to say. She wasn’t even sure if she was in the compound anymore. 

Natasha ate with uncertainty. She knew they were unlikely to poison her. Not after so many questions and tests. Still, there was something odd about her meals. They were abundant and much too generous for a prisoner. Fortified cereals. Lean meats. Nuts and seeds. Oranges and strawberries. It was the first time in her life she was under such a healthy diet, actually. She didn’t trust it one bit.

A part of her already knew. Perhaps she just didn’t want to face it. Natasha only allowed herself to put together the pieces on the morning of the third day, when along with her meal she was brought a pack of vitamins. She was sternly instructed to take them all. The nurse wouldn’t leave the room until she did. 

Natasha complied, feeling a knot on her stomach during the entire meal. The nurse left. She found herself staring at her retreating figure. At the empty pack crumpled in her fist. Natasha could recognize the brand. She’d bought them at the pharmacy once. Not for herself. It was a favor for a coworker who was trying to conceive. They were in their lunch break, and she’d forgotten her pack at home. 

They were prenatal pills. The kind to facilitate conception.

* * *

On the morning of the fourth day, they came for her. 

Natasha had just finished breakfast. She was about to start her daily routine of exercises when she heard the sound of the door been opened. Half-expecting to find another needle buried in her neck, she briskly turned around. Her nurse was back. Two strongly built men stood behind her, blocking the exit. They wore medical uniforms. Natasha wasn’t fooled by them, though. 

Their appearance alone made it clear that they were an escort. 

“Come along, now. No need to make a fuss of it.” The nurse said.

Natasha fought to keep the annoyance off of her face. She was starting to dislike the woman. The detached, almost clinical way she spoke to her put Natasha on edge. When she bothered to refer to her at all, that is. 

“Where are you taking me?” Natasha asked.

“You do not get to ask questions. Only to obey.” The nurse said. She didn’t even sneer at her. There was no contempt on her voice. Somehow, it would have been easier if there was. “If you do not do as you are told, these men will have to force you. Surely you see how it’s easier for us all, if you just comply?”

A part of Natasha felt like proving her wrong. Just to spite her. She knew she could take down the three of them without much of an effort. Even men twice the size of these bodyguards weren’t a match for her. That was the one good thing the Red Room had left her. Their training. Ever since Natasha deserted their ranks, it had not failed her once. 

For a whole second, she entertained the idea of disabling the guards and making a run for it. 

She didn’t know the layout of the place and there was the collar to worry about, but even if she was captured her little venture could serve to gather information. Natasha took a glance at the hallway beyond the door, though, and quickly realized her trouble would be for nothing. The mutant was there. She was staring intently at Natasha. Her lips were turned downwards. Her eyebrows slightly raised in what looked like a dare. As if somehow, she knew.

Natasha felt something like panic stirring inside her. 

She lowered her head and let the guards manhandle her.

* * *

They took her to a communal shower. 

The tiles were white. The room was spacious and looked unbearably clean. Every shower head was separated by a plastic wall. Presumably, to provide a minimum of privacy. No curtains in sight, thought. 

Natasha hesitated.

“What’s the matter, now? Surely you’ve taken a shower before?” The nurse asked. 

Natasha stared at her, but didn’t answer. 

If she hadn’t been slavic herself, Natasha would have thought this was intentional. Would have found something ill-intended in the whole thing. A way to purposely humiliated her. Communal showers were nothing new to her, though. When she was training in the Red Room, they had been the norm. They were for Russia in general, for that matter. So much so that when she’d come to the West, private bathrooms had been a whole novelty for her. 

If it had only been Wanda and the nurse in the room with her, she wouldn’t have minded.

“Can you tell them to leave first?” She asked.

“No, I can’t.” The nurse answered immediately. Then she took a glance at Natasha, and seemed to soften a bit. “I’m sorry. I was specifically told not to.”

Natasha nodded. _Best to be done with it, then._

She tried to find comfort on the fact that she wasn’t been underestimated. Her escort was quite a sight to behold, actually. A shock collar. Two strong bodyguards. A seemingly all powerful mutant. They’d even put handcuffs on her. It felt good, in a way, to be held in such high regard by her enemies. 

It also made her escape all the more difficult. 

After the shower, they didn’t take her back to her cell.

Natasha could tell she was been lead through a different corridor. No one cared to tell her where exactly they were going, though. It seemed to be something of a company policy. To keep prisoners aloof. She had a vague idea of where she was headed, though. 

The fact that she had been allowed to take a shower after four days in captivity with barely running water was telling enough. They weren’t cheap about it, either. Natasha was helped to soap, shampoo and air conditioner. Afterwards they handed her deodorant, and even dried her hair. When she tried to put her clothes back on, the nurse offered her slippers and a white bathrobe instead.

“You are not going to need that for now.” She’d said. 

Natasha felt a pit grow in her stomach. She nodded and slipped the bathrobe on. 

Briefly, she wondered if they were taking her to be inseminated. Everything seemed to indicate that they were. The doctor’s questions. Her diet. The pills she’d been given. If that was the case, she could at least find comfort on the fact that they wouldn’t succeed. Not after her operation. 

The ceremony had been done in such a way that it was impossible to see on a radiography. They had not removed anything. That would explain why the medics hadn’t realized while performing her exams. It seemed that for once in her life, Soviet medicine was doing something good for Natasha. 

_First time for everything, isn’t that what they say?_

She wondered what it would be like. To lay on a table and have a doctor put inside her the sperm of an anonymous man. It wasn’t an exciting prospect. It gave her the creeps, actually. It would lead to nothing though, so really she had nothing to worry about. Unless Hydra decided to go for less contemporary methods.

That option was much too grim for Natasha to consider. 

They stopped in front of a large gate. 

It had at least five different locks, and it was made of thick metal. Natasha didn’t need to look twice to realize what it was. It shone in that familiar, special way that made Steve’s shield so unmistakable. The sight made a shiver run down her body. What was Strucker keeping here that was so powerful he needed Adamantium to contain it? Surely they weren’t taking her to the Scepter. What was this for, then? 

_No. Not what._ Natasha thought, feeling her pulse jumping in her throat. _Who?_

The mutant entered a code and the gate opened, making a jarring, echoing noise. 

Natasha was wearing handcuffs again, so it wasn’t difficult for Wanda to reach out and twist her forearm just so to force her advance. Before complying, Natasha took one last look over her shoulder. The nurse and her counterfeit friends were stepping away. It seemed like they weren’t coming along. The look of apprehension on all of their faces did very little to appease her nerves. She went along without protest, though.

They entered a cell not unlike her own. It was approximately the same size, although the walls were made of metal. Adamantium too, probably. There were signs of someone living there, though, which couldn’t be said about her little white cage. There was forniture, for a start. A chair and a wooden desk. A center table with a jug of water on top. Two lower shelves with a few books on them. The bed had a frame and nice, expensive looking sheets. On top of it sat a man facing the opposite wall.

Natasha felt the world spin beneath her feet.

He didn’t need to turn around for her to realize who it was.

“You’ve brought me another one, then?” He said, as abrasive and deceivingly polite as she remembered him to be. “I’ve told you before. There is no point to Strucker’s filthy little experiment. I thought that was clear after the last one.”

“Come on. You should give her a chance, at least.” Wanda said. She pulled out a key to open Natasha’s handcuffs and pushed her deeper into the room. “I really think we’ve found your match this time.”

Loki turned his head to glance at them. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by the mutant’s words, until he noticed her. Their eyes seemed to find each other at roughly the same time. He paled. Quite noticeably. The sneer that had been forming on his face quickly turned into a thin, mortified line. 

Natasha felt in a daze. Like walking through a dream.

This had to be a joke.

“You guys do remember each other, then.” Wanda said. She looked a bit unsure, now. Like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. It was suddenly very clear to Natasha that she wasn’t holding the cards here. This wasn’t her idea. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” She said. 

Wanda cast both of them one last, wary glance before disappearing through the door.


End file.
